If I could have anything I wanted?
An ass kisser, skirt chaser, boot licker.
A donkey shiner for the rubbing of stones.
A grave air-freshener in the shape of a cross.
A holy roller, rubble raiser, dune flattener.
A bizarro magnet for the attraction of flies.
A sewage sucker-upper. There’s a fortune
to be made inventing effective sidewalk
gum removers, but I interrupt myself.
Transparent, all-purpose putty for fixing
plastic objects by filling-in cracks and chips.
A bleeping hat-glove-umbrella locator.
A babe magnet. A miniature furnace
for turning mice, roaches, rats, mosquitoes
and other pests into fuel-efficient biomass.
A lid or cover for keeping sea-levels safe.
Life-like rubber extensions for fingers,
noses, and ears. Every possible variant/
combination of containers with minimal
edges that can still be stacked for easy
transport in larger rectilinear volumes.
A well-extruded clasper for shipping
picture-perfect, unblemished fruit and pigs.
Shades, pillowcases, and blankets that can be
draped and worn over the human form.
An infinite progression of small objects
that can be used to stimulate child’s play.
A nail-clipper that doubles as a scraper
for nose hair. A mechanical means for
real-time interpolation of personhood.
Shovel for extirpating unpopular propositions.
A bagel that slices and butters itself.
Sluice screens for collecting size-specific
specimens of material doo-doo culture.
Several options for the trimming of glare.
A smile-inducer for public conveyances.
A variable, expanding screw. Scratch and sniff
literature for pampered, housebound dogs.
A nice Bengali multicultural psychoanalyst.
If we could only design a human being
for every one of our needs. A soup-slurping,
pill-popping, scandal-tainted tear-jerker.
A greeter for distant relatives and friends.
A crosspollinator for grafting of family trees.
A sitting chair containing exactly two atoms
from Albert Einstein’s wedding-day bed.
A solemn friendship transducer for the
introspection of dreams. A wish recorder-
slash-transmitter. A chewer and spitter
for the utilization of sick days. I need to
go on a while longer. A clean bill of health.
Star charts for determining auspicious days
to dawdle. I demand a thank you note,
an explanation from your personal psychic,
the privilege of walking the Dalmatians alone.
A chronic esplanade for detouring around wrecks.
Warbling made audible by doctoring warped LPs.
Reconstruction of the nasal cavity
for the propping of varicose facial veins.
Chelated cough drops that make you feel green.
Promulgation of clues for the latest crime spree.
Culinary escapades. A means to remain irrelevant.
Premonitions for the revivals of Sturm und Drang.